There’s a story there…somewhere

Point of View, Sunset and the Soo

Sunset over the Soo

Yes, Sault Ste. Marie. Beautiful, no? This was the view from my hotel room last Saturday. For real. Breathtaking.

But so is this too
the view
from my hotel room 
in the Soo. 

In its unedited form, a bowling alley and parking lot that were really not so nice to look at. (I took this one first so it’s not as orange.)

Just goes to show you: Point of View is all in how you look at it.

© Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.

Filed Under: Nice Try

So yesterday one of my kids, frustrated at a handheld game they were playing, used the F word.

In proper disapproving parental voice I chided, “Hey, that’ll be enough of that, thank you.”

Kid replied, “Oh, sorry, that was with a P.H.”

!

Touche.
At least it demonstrates an understanding of English spelling rules.

© Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.

NY and Back–by Bus

Ah, mass transportation. This past weekend I went to NY, NY for the SCBWI 2010 Conference. By bus. Overnight. Because the bus is affordable and has a flexible schedule, that’s why.

Sure my butt fell asleep. So did at least one leg. I also can’t forget that my neck got a horrible crick in it, but it sure was an interesting trip. Between the bus from my hometown to Toronto, time in the terminal, and then the bus trip from Toronto to NY, it was about a 17 hour marathon. Each way. Plenty of time to ponder life and observe people, particularly since the book I’d chosen for my journey turned out to be lame and I couldn’t for the life of me fall asleep for any decent length of time.

 Memorable Moments

  • Realizing the seat I’d chosen from hometown to Toronto was in front of Muttering Man, a guy who fielded regular phone calls between which he’d mutter strings of F words at the weather, the traffic, whatever. I’d be lying if I said the words Manitoba, knife, bus, and murder didn’t all go through my head.
  • The New Man who sat beside Muttering Man for part of the journey and proceeded to get Muttering Man into a conversation which revealed MM was up on assault charges against his ex. TMI!
  • Waiting at Buffalo for about 15 Amish people to find seats on the crowded bus full of sleeping, or pretending to be sleeping, people.
  • Discovering that the Amish people had gone through the underground shopping concourse in Toronto in order to arrive at McDonald’s for breakfast.
  • Seeing Security swoop down on and herd away the two drunks who were heckling the Amish people who were at McDonald’s for breakfast in the underground Toronto shopping concourse.

Snippets and Observations

  • How do you get to the bus terminal, sit down and then think, “Hey, now’s a great time to clean my ears” whereupon you roll up a napkin and proceed to do just that? ?????? 
  • In a closed environment like a bus, one cannot help but think that the greatest and not-widely-enough-applied invention of modern society is deodorant. Trust me on this one.
  • Whatever happened to the guy sitting in the seat in front of me? He never did get back on after the stop at the border, did he?
  • People will eat fastfood at any hour of the day… or rather night. Even 3:00am. Gack!

Mass transportation: A writer’s observational research goldmine.

    © Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
    No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.

    Installment Seven: Saga of the Search for Speedy Internet

    To get the full flavour, you gotta go at least skim Introduction, Installment One, Two, Three, Four, Five and Six. Really. Take my word for it.

    So I’m making dinner and I’m not holding out much hope that I’ll be called back even though Big Communications Corporation (BCC) Phone Guy has promised he would, because I’ve SO been there, when the phone rings.

    It’s hubby. I explain disappointment is nothing personal. Tap dance a little. Hang up.

    I continue being amateur chef beating up on onions, garlic, red pepper, and sausage. Phone rings again.

    It’s Phone Guy! He says everything’s all set but the only thing is, can Installation Setup Guy come on Friday? That’s like in two days. I’m having company then: my sister and niece and nephew whom I haven’t seen in awhile. I weigh options.

    Too bad, the family will have to deal. (Actually, they’ll probably be really happy Installation Setup Guy will be here while they’re here if it means they’ll never ever have to listen to my carping and whining about being on dialup ever again.)

    So I agree to Friday for Installation Setup Guy, profusely thank BCC Phone Guy and hang up. I am happy but not ecstatic. Been too long, come too far. Something or other about counting chickens and hatching eggs.

    So Installation Setup Guy Arrival day arrives. He himself arrives. Thoughtfully leaves his boots at the door. I show him computer and nearby phone jack. I leave him to work some magic. I join the family wreaking havoc upstairs when he pops his head in and asks if he can use the phone.

    Gulp. Okay. Pass him the cordless.

    I hear him talking, fiddling, doing some stuff. He calls me to the computer. Apologizes but says he was having some trouble getting the System Setup to recognize me.

    Hah! Why am I not surprised? I say apologetically, “Uh, well, apparently we had to be added manually to The System, or something.”

    He nods sagely. He goes through the setup screens with me. Says we should be getting faster than what it’s currently giving us but that he has to get a switch flicked at another location which he is not authorized to do himself (!?). He shows me lovely white router which he has unwrapped fresh from the box. Explains all about it. Patiently tells me about the filter doohickeys that now have to go on all phones all over the house. Says he has to go hook up Some Other Guy nearby now and leaves me his cell number in case of a problem.

    Wow!

    So Installation Setup Guy puts his boots back on and leaves. Family and I play with the internet just a little to prove it works. I am giddy at the speed of things. Here! At Home! But it’s the summer and the sun is calling so we leave for awhile. When we come back, the router is not working. No lovely green lights on it anymore. Red ones. Damn!!!

    But I resist my urge to freak completely. I phone Installation Setup Guy’s cell. He answers: “It’s not working anymore, is it?”

    “Right,” I reply in a voice that I hope doesn’t sound as squeaky to him as it does to me.

    “No problem,” he says. He tells me Big Communications Corporation has to change something at the main “office” box in Smalltown, and the guy who is authorized to do that can’t do it until tomorrow. It should be all set by about noon.

    Um, tomorrow is Saturday. I am skeptical but keep it to myself. I thank him politely and hang up. Saturday we are out at one of the many festivals this tourist region has to offer. We return home. I glance at lovely white router. It’s got green lights on it!!!!!

    So we play with the internet. We call up YouTube just because we CAN. We sample snippets of the top 10 iTunes tunes. We search for stuff on Google. We look at satellite images. We LOVE IT!!! I am not so sure what our data plan is, but I am not thinking about that right now. Right now, who cares?!

    Then, a day or so later, the up-until-now mythical Return Kit arrives for portable plastic piece o’ poo modem. Yay! I send it packing. Hah!

    And then—

    And then I get another package in the mail. BCC has sent me a lovely new white router in a shrink-wrapped box.

    !!

    It is identical to lovely white router Installation Setup Guy already installationed. I look at new white router-in-box. I look at lovely white already-working router. I quietly place new white router-in-box on top of computer desk. I have determined my best course of action here: New white router-in-a-box collects dust. It makes a nice paperweight, really.

    And there it remains to this day,
    because I remain
    at long, long, long last
    a techno peasant
    no longer.

    © Lizann Flatt, www.lizannflatt.com
    No part of this blog may be used without written permission from the author.